Holy Shit I’m a Romance Writer!!

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If I ever get a book written, I’m going to be like the chick in the tub. Smoking, drinking champagne and speaking Italian. Giggle, snort!

When I first started blogging, I wrote a post called Steamy Windows and Nineteen. It was a favorite memory of mine. Kyle told me in an email that I wrote very well, but my best stories were about love. The more tragic, the better. I’m sad he doesn’t blog anymore. He taught me how to write erotica. I miss him.

I loathe most romance novels and writers. Nicholas Sparks, Danielle Steele, Nora Roberts, Stephenie Meyer, Robert James Waller, etc. Dear God, if I type any more of the author’s names, I’m going to hurl.

I’ll be happy to write like Robert James Waller though. I read The Bridges of Madison County and I swear to you I cried so hard, part of my heart broke. The damn thing won’t ever heal.   The movie? Fahgettaboutit. I could be in the sunniest mood when I first start viewing it. By the end when she grips that door handle, I’m sobbing like a lost child. I swear to you I am pushing against that door with all my might.  I want her to run to him. Even though I know she won’t. I pray that the story will end differently. I know it’s where I got the idea for the ashes of the woman to be buried with her writer in The Ghost of a Great Love.

I’ve written happy stories like Sunrise, Coffee and Sanctuary. Some of my stories have to have happy endings. Most don’t though. And that’s okay. I think I was supposed to write the tragic love story, like The Chill of Autumn and The Death of a Love. A little poem titled, Raindrops and Red Lipstick was one of my saddest. The angriest story I’ve written so far is The Madness of a Woman Seduced. I have to say it’s one of my favorites. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!

I’m not trying to tout my work. Be all stuck up and snobby, like my writing is exemplary. Far from it. What I’m  trying to tell you all is that I’m super frustrated by the revelation that I am a romance writer. I wanted to be deep. I wanted to be all cerebral and shit. It ain’t gonna happen though. This silly blonde woman wears her heart on her sleeve. I always have. Always will.

I have a fantastic editor. I won’t tell you his name, because he asked me not to. Plus he’s mine and I don’t share well with others. I’m working on getting published. I’ve found a couple of writing groups that I’m going to join. I’m even working with a local publisher/editor. I’m praying that something good will happen with this writing “thing” as an ex-friend calls it. I tell you though, if all I ever do is write on Rendezvous, that’ll be enough.

The image below is my  1/2 sleeve tattoo. I’ll be getting it soon. Starts at my left my shoulder and wraps around my elbow. See, I really will be wearing my heart on my sleeve. For everyone to see.

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